


In my Younger Years

by mydearsherloki



Category: Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Go Easy On Me, Idk man this is my first story, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-15 21:52:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1320490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydearsherloki/pseuds/mydearsherloki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh,” she said cutting me off. “You must know Mr. Holmes.” </p>
<p>A gatsbylock fic. Based both on the book and movie, borrows heavily from the dialogue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to all the wonderful blogs encouraging/helping me write this thing- Mia, Miranda, Rob, and some other person :3

In my younger years, my father gave me some advice that I’ve been thinking about ever since. “Greg,” he said “Whenever you feel like criticizing anyone, just remember to have the evidence to do it with first.” I've always thought about that ever since. No man could ever have gain evidence that quickly to pass judgment in a matter of mere seconds.

Only Sherlock, proved me wrong. Sherlock, the man who this story is about, had the ability to prove a man innocent or guilty, to tell the difference between the honest and the cruel. Not many people saw him the way I did, the great man he was. His downfall was his heart, the heart that no one thought he had. This ingenious personality he had and the hidden affection he never showed is something I will never find in any other man, and is extremely unlikely I shall ever find again. 

I graduated the University of Manchester in 1915. From there, with the help of my father, I moved to the United States. My whole family was in the crime business, so I took to New York to seek out exciting new opportunities for myself. The expected thing to do was to seek out a tiny flat in the heart of the city, but instead a partner in my office, Anderson, suggested we share house out in the countryside. Anderson found a small house, in a small bay where mansions filled every space possible. 

The countryside was filled with the rich; the only anomaly was my shack of a house that stood within the reaches on the mansions that surrounded me. Next to my house was the biggest mansion of them all, the Holmes’ mansion. A huge building, with a lawn always freshly cut that towered over everything else in the bay. The only mansion that came close to the comparison of his was the Watson’s household across the bay. 

John Watson was my mate, back when we were children, and I’d known his wife Mary back when we were in university. I haven’t seen them since they got married a long while ago. I don’t know exactly why they moved from England to America, they had a perfectly good home back in London. John told me this was the place they were permanently staying, but I’m not convinced. When people get restless they move and from what I remembered, John is one of the most restless man I have met. 

*****

I was greeted by the mansions rolling gardens on both left and right. Some were made of brick and some were white-washed stucco, either way both were ostentatious in their own way. It seemed as if every person on the bay was trying to out-do one another with the things they had. Starting with the houses and ending at the cars, each one had more and more to show off. I pulled up to one of the ivy-covered brick mansions, as I walked up the brick pathway to the front on the Watson's mansion I recognized a figure who could only be Mary Watson.

“Greg!” She called, waving one of her servers off. “Greg! Is that you?” 

I smiled walking up to her, I faltered for a moment before she embraced me in a small hug. She wore a white gown that came up right below her knees, the bodice was overlaid with lace, and her overall dress seemed plain compared to the very large ring she prominently displayed on her left hand. She’s changed since our university days. She seemed more rigid, almost on edge, and a bit aggressive when releasing me from the tight embrace. “I haven’t seen you in ages! Come inside! In there it’s at least a degree cooler.”

*****

Mary grasped my arm as we walked into the mansion. We strode down the gigantic hallway with the softest plush rug. The hallway was lined with framed paintings, staring at them; I concluded that they were at least worth a thousand each. Mary opened the French doors that lead to the vast sitting area filled with the finest silk curtains and a lone mahogany table. There sat none other than John Watson and a woman unrecognizable to me. 

“John.” Mary called with sternness in her tone. “Greg arrived.”

John lazily got up, dressed finely in a pale navy suit with a dark grey tie. His eyes crinkled with pure happiness as he walked towards me. “Greg, how have you been? Have they missed me back in London?” He smiled chuckling slightly

“I’m well, thank you.” I replied. “Of course they miss you John, for gods sake crowds gather daily in the streets, desperate and chanting your name, wishing you would return!”

John let out a laugh, pulling me into an embrace. When he released he said “You’ve got to see the city Greg, it’s so different from London. The towering buildings, the long  
roads…”

“Greg,” Mary cut in, she’d been walking back and forth as if something was bothering her complete being. “What do you do anyway?”

“I’m in the crime detective division of the police.” I said straightening out my posture slightly to show my pride. 

Mary just nodded absently barely listening to a word I said.

“Interesting!” The woman from the couch finally said. 

“Greg, this is Molly, Molly Hooper.” John said nodding in Miss Hooper’s direction.

She stood shorter than I, and had the most beautiful dark eyes I’ve ever seen. They were like pools of the universe rested their place within them. Her dark red hair was pulled tightly back and she looked at me with a gleaming smile. “You live across the bay right?” 

“Yes,” I said. “And I don’t know a single person…”

“Oh,” she said cutting me off. “You must know Mr. Holmes.” 

“Holmes?” John asked abruptly with obvious fluster. “What Holmes?”

******

Dinner was called and I was led out the back patio. It seemed that every part of the Watson household was lavish, and every piece of furniture carefully picked to accentuate each other. The patio especially, it had a hand carved wooden set measured to fit the porch almost perfectly. The glow of the candles upon the table seemed to let off an aura of intimate serenity that the rest of the house seemed to lack. 

“Candles?” John asked puzzled “Why are there candles when it’s almost eighty degrees out? For god sake it’s almost the longest day of the year! Why do we need candles?”  
“There just are candles John.” Mary replied her aggravation seemed to grow by the minute. Why, I wasn't sure. 

“Well,” I said “The markets seem to be doing well.”

“Of course!” Mary jumped in with interest. “The markets are doing splendidly, our stock and money keeps on growing. The rest of the market is going down when our stocks are booming, right John?”

John smiled towards his wife. “Of course.” He turned so his eyes met mine. “We've got to beat down the completion right?”

I chuckled politely. This moment of joy was disrupted by the ring of a telephone. The mechanic ringing that easily tears its way through any conversation. Mary weakly smiled at me and Miss Hooper as she stood to go answer the call. 

John avoided eye contact as he folded and refolded his napkin also he fiddled with the golden watch around his wrist. Finally, after a couple more seconds of tense silence he excused himself and briskly strode through the doors back into the sitting room. This action left me and Miss Hooper alone at the patio table.

“So,” I said “About this neighbor of mine, Mr. Holmes…”

“Sh!” She said quickly raising a delicate hand. “I’m trying to hear what’s happening inside.”

“Why?” I asked

“Don’t you know?” she asked me perplexed. “I thought everyone knew.”

“No…”

“Mary’s got some man, in the city.”

“Blimey, a man?” 

Miss Hooper nodded shifting in her seat trying to get a better look inside. “You think he’d be smart enough not to call during dinner, must be an awfully big buffoon if you ask me.” 

The softness outside on the patio reached nowhere inside the mansion. The harsh light from inside seemed to creep its way out along with the shouts and quips of Mister and Misses Watson.

Miss Hooper focused towards me and shimmied her way out of her chair. “Might as well show you the rest of the massive house, they’ll be at it for a while, won’t you join me Mr. Lestrade?”

*****

About an hour later, Miss Hooper and I found ourselves in another exquisite sitting room. This room was a beautiful rouge color, complete with a Persian rug and two cream couches. Molly and I entered the room while the Watsons sat stationary on one of the couches. Mary held the times in her hands, reading the news off to John while he sat there and listened to her soft voice. It was an act of pure endearment, something a husband and wife are meant to do. The way John had a small smile permanent on his face and Mary sat with her hand resting on John’s knee had tenderness written all over. 

As soon as we entered Mary looked up, past our faces, and at the grandfather clock behind me. “Ten O’clock.” She said. “I should really get to bed.” She leaned over and gave John a quick kiss. She walked past me into the archway leading out of the room. “Will you come with me Molly?”

“Oh, Oh! Molly Hooper!” I said “You’re the Molly Hooper.” It finally struck me why Miss Hooper was unrecognizable but still familiar. Molly Hooper was one of the first women to work with the medical department at NYU; she was one of the first who graduated with high honors. I remember her picture being featured on the front page of a lesser known magazine a while back. 

Molly smiled following Mary’s lead. “Goodnight Greg, I’ll see you soon.” 

“You two would make an adorable couple.” Mary said “This summer I should get you two together, plan trips, and push you out to sea on a tiny boat.”

“I’m not listening to a word you’re saying Mary.” Molly called, already halfway down the hallway. 

Mary smiled and nodded at me saying a quick passing goodnight. John got up from his comfortable place on the sofa and assured Mary he would walk me out.  
John and I strode through another tall hallway, this one covered almost entirely with glass cases that displayed John’s military awards and metals. A couple cases displayed old family photos, peering into them quickly as we walked by, from what I could tell; there were only photos of John’s family none of which Mary was included.

“I heard you’re engaged Greg.” John said finally.

“Oh, no.” I said “I can assure you there is no future Misses Lestrade in my present right now. Besides I’m too poor to marry right now.”

John’s face went slack for a second and returned to its cheerful self. “Well, Mary and I have heard it from three different people, so it must be true.” He joked.  
We reached the end of the hallway where the doors to one of the exits stood. I thanked John for the accompaniment and the hospitality provided for me that night. One of John’s many servers opened the door for me. While walking I quickly turned around. 

“John?” I called

“Yes?” he answered through the door way.

“What Molly said before… about a Mr. Holmes? Do you know…?”

“Oh, I hear Mary calling, good night Greg!”

As I got into my car I knew for certain I did not hear any voices come out of the house except John Watson’s. This hesitance John Watson held only made me question my new neighbor more and more. 

My house was dark and silent when I arrived. The summer nights were always the most tranquil with the soft hum of the crickets and the warmness of the soundless breeze. I parked my beat-up car in the front, and walked around towards the back of the house. When I turned the corner of my quaint yard I saw none other than Mr. Holmes standing at the very tip of his dock. He was standing there gazing across the bay, for a single light seemed to be absorbing all his attention.  
I looked towards the lone light that was across the way, too late I realized that the light was coming from the Watson’s mansion. I was about to call out to him when he vanished and I was left alone with nothing but summer night and the light from across the bay.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m fine Greg.” she smiled. “I just want you to first meet my guy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone's wonderful support so far! Sorry for the slow uploading. Also I will try being more consistent with uploading every 1-2 weeks. Thank you to everyone! Also to Rob again, for fixing my horrible grammar.

The next morning was bright; the sun beat down with such intensity as if New York was the Sahara desert itself. I got up early to get a head start on the day. I dressed as well as I could, for Mary had invited me for a night in New York City. John, unfortunately, was not joining us. Mary said he had something important to do but didn't elaborate on it.  
In between the bay and the city was a wasteland of dust and debris. All walks of life from workers to the brightest debutantes bustled around this area. Mary’s driver dropped us off at the train stop located there which was nearest to the bay.

Mary fiddled with the strap of her purse as we waited for the train to arrive. The whole morning Mary had been fidgeting more than usual. Back at the mansion, before we left, every time John dared to call her name she jumped nearly a mile.

The train pulled up to the stop with its usual blow of the whistle. As I started to climb up the steps aboard, Mary suddenly grabbed my arm. She tugged at my sleeve and motioned for me to come back. The mustached train conductor was about as puzzled as I was.

“Are you boarding or not?” He asked in a thick New York accent.

Mary shook her head as he shrugged and motioned to the driver of the train to leave.

“What’s the matter, Mary?” I asked. “Are you okay? You've been acting strange all morning.”

“I’m fine, Greg.” Mary smiled. “I just want you to first meet my guy.”

*****

Now, I’m a simple man. As I was taught and I have always believed, that when you get married you stay with that person and never even look at another soul for the rest of your life. Mary, on the other hand, must have learned something very different from what I did. The minute she confirmed this guy that Molly had told me about before, I knew there was nothing but trouble heading our way.

We walked towards a shabby looking garage labeled, “Insert name of gas station”. It was right across from the train station. I had a bad feeling growing in the very pit of my stomach.

“Jim?” She called into the dilapidated building. “Is anyone here?”

“Mrs. Watson!” said a man’s voice. The voice belonged to a man who was working deep within the garage. As the man stood before us, I noticed the grease on his shirt from a hard day’s work at the repairman job he did. The man had hints of handsome in his dark hair and eyes. Mary introduced him to me as James Moriarty; to me he looked a bit shady but nothing to be concerned about. His demeanor, however, reeked of intimidation and surpassed erratic emotions.

“Did you get that car for me yet?” James asked

“I’m fine, thank you Jim.” Mary answered “John’s best worker is getting the car fixed up before we bring it over here.”

“A bit slow, isn't he?” James tried to joke, though aggravation seemed to rest upon his eyebrows.

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. A man about Jim’s age stood at the base of the staircase. He was dressed in a button up shirt and poorly ironed slacks, and his shoes seemed to lack proper shining. It was as if he was trying to impress someone without the means to do so. He smiled at Mary and kept his gaze on her while talking to Jim. “James, why don’t you get us some chairs to sit down in while we talk business? Hmm?”

Jim looked from Mary to the other man and weakly smiled while going to the back room to grab some folding chairs. Once out of earshot, the man quickly went over to Mary and kissed her quickly while leaving me to stand there by myself in shock. After a couple seconds of standing, I cleared my throat and the couple quickly broke apart. As their arms quickly went away from each other and they slid a couple inches toward their original places, it occurred to me right then that the man was Jim’s husband.

“Greg,” Mary said, motioning towards her lover. “This is David. And David, this is Greg, John’s childhood friend.”

“Nice to meet you, mate.” David smiled, offering his hand.

After I shook his hand, Mary dug into her purse and produced a small roll of money and handed it over to David.

“Now?” David asked, taking the money.

“When else? Besides, I want to see you.” Mary playfully pouted.

“Whatever you want, doll.” David smiled, quickly checking over his shoulder before gently turning Mary’s head and gave her a fast kiss on her cheek. He murmured a barely audible I love you into her ear; instead of returning the saying back as lovers normally do, she just nodded back at him.

I cleared my throat once again to make sure they both knew I was still standing there. “I hate to interject, but won’t your husband mind?” I asked David.

“Oh no, not Jim.” David replied while Mary giggled slightly. “That man is so slow that he couldn't catch a stalled train.”

We all heard rattling coming from the back room where Jim was. It turned deathly quiet and a single shiver ran up my spine at the thought of him spying on us from that little room.

Mary whispered to David something I couldn't quite make out. She genuinely smiled at him with crinkled eyes and for just a second they looked like they belonged together, that they were an actual couple. The rattling came again and Mary quickly grabbed my arm and led me out the open garage door and back towards the train. When I looked behind me, I saw a love-struck David leaning on the large door frame of the garage. When I looked back at Mary, determination was in her eyes and a frown that had no trace of happiness to it.

*****

Mary and I met David at the station. In the city, no one knew Mary or David’s face so it was easy for them to act like a normal couple. I’ve been to Grand Central plenty of times and every time there is an out pour of people. There are always people, good or bad, always going places every day at every time.

We took a cab to the apartment. The apartment was smaller than I expected. For Mary, a woman who has lived in mansions all her life, I thought she would be cramped, claustrophobic even. The largest room was a sitting room in the middle of the entire floor plan. In it were two eggshell couches sat across from each other, a black armchair sat by the window, and a small table with a red throw used as a tablecloth over it. Above our heads was a chandelier that hung just high enough that only a massive person would hit their head. Also located in this room was a small piano to the left and a small fireplace to the right.

She seemed to be right at home when she walked in, clinging to David’s arm. Again, it was one of those few rare moments with Mary and David in which they looked like maybe they could be together. A normal couple that would spend their time in each other’s arms and stare at each other with only love in their eyes.

A tiny dog came up to my leg, interrupting my thoughts; it was barking and jumping on me in greeting. Somehow it reminded me of John, when we were kids he had a tiny English bulldog we played with all the time. I asked myself what was I doing. John was my best, and only, childhood friend, how could I be here with his wife and her promiscuous lover?

“Well, I should go.” I spoke, grabbing my hat that I had I set down on the table.

“You can’t!” Mary insisted with a frown. “David invited over his cousin and a couple friends, really Greg you should stay.”

I nodded, sitting back down. After a couple minutes of what seemed to be Mary straightening out the place, Mary and David disappeared into the bedroom. I took this opportunity to get some air. As I opened the front door a woman appeared in it. She had wavy chocolate hair that hung below her shoulders. Her smile gleamed bright under the rose colored lipstick she had on. Her eyes seemed to glow with slyness as she greeted me, walking into the apartment.

After the first woman walked in a man taller than I. He wore spectacles and had a scruffy beard hanging on his face. He stood properly with his hands crossed in front of him like a gentleman would. He bowed slightly before walking past me.

Followed by him was another woman about the same height as the first. She wore her hair up in an intricate pattern. Her face was structured well, easy to see due to her slenderness. Her mouth was brightly painted with a red color that accentuated her entire being.

When they all entered, I asked if any of them lived in the apartment building. They all stared at me for a second before laughing.

“As if we could afford it!” the first woman exclaimed and I noted her Scottish accent. “The only person who could come close is this guy.” She pointed a finger to the man standing.  
“Oh please.” He said, waving her off. “Don’t be a naughty girl.”

“Yes,” added the other woman with a sultry smile. “That’s my job.”

They laughed. I was obviously missing something.

I was saved from awkward conversation as Mary and David stepped out of the bedroom. David was now sharply dressed in a pinstriped suit and a white button up shirt. Mary enthusiastically greeted the first woman. She hugged her tightly before introducing her to me as Jeanine. The man was named Charles Augustus and the last woman was named Irene Adler.

While Mary and David talked to Charles and Irene, I sat down in the black arm chair by the window. Moments later, Jeanine walked over and sat down on the armrest. She threw her arm around me as she slid into a comfortable position.

“Aren't they adorable?” She asked. Her face brightened as she smiled, highlighting the apples of her cheeks.

“Who?” I inquired.

“Mary and David, of course!” She replied as if I was a child.

“Oh, oh! Of course, very, um, adorable.” I lied.

“They’ll be even more adorable when they get married eventually.”

“Eventually?” I asked, feeling troubled.

“Yes! Listen,” She leaned even closer to me, with her voice as quiet as she could. “Mary’s husband is very religious, and you know those types, right? They don’t believe in divorce. As soon as Mary shakes him, she and David will be together!”

I couldn't believe this lie. I knew for a fact John was not religious. I don’t even remember him going to church as a child. Jeanine seemed so sure of this, Mary must have told her. That made me sicker than I already was.

“You know, neither of them can stand the person they’re married to.” Jeanine remarked, flipping a lock of her hair over her shoulder.

“Really?” I gulped.

She nodded enthusiastically. “I don’t know James, David’s husband… he does sound nice, it’s too bad he doesn't know how much David loves Mary. I almost feel bad for him.”

“Feel bad?” David chimed in on the verge of laughter, “Try living with the bloke!” Everybody laughed except me. I nodded politely.

“Why did you marry that man, anyway? I thought I was more your type.” Irene giggled.

“You’re everybody’s type!” Mary laughed, drink in hand.

“No, no it’s a legitimate question,” David sighed smile fading. “It was so simple; I thought he was a gentleman. He promised me the world and convinced me I would get it. Now this was when I just met him. I knew Mary before, and I always had the biggest crush on her. But when I heard she was getting married, I practically threw myself into James’ arms, all because I thought he was the gentleman that would give me the world. But I knew I made the biggest mistake on our wedding day, as soon as I said ‘I do’ I realized he was all talk.   
He had no power, he controlled no one. I thought we would be living on the bay like Mary! I don’t even think his name is James, I think that’s just a name he made up so people would take him more seriously!”

“Yeah!” Irene cut it, a glass of something raised in her hand. “Maybe his name is Richard!”

Somehow that was funny to everyone. Jeanine only smiled. “Wait a minute Greg, you live on the bay, right?” she said now on top of my lap.

“Yes I do.” I smiled at her.

“I went to a party there last weekend. It was at a house of a man named Holmes, do you know him?”

“I've never met him… but I live right next to him.”

She beamed obviously intrigued by this new subject . “I heard he’s a fall guy. I've also heard he’s a cousin of that mentally deranged billionaire Henry Knight. I don’t know about you, but I would stay away from him.”

“Really?” I stammered. “Have you heard anything else…?”

Before I could finish, a cork popping out of a champagne bottle cut me off. I guessed that was the end of my conversation with Jeanine. Now, I have been to the pub plenty of times with my mates back at home, but I have only gotten drunk two times in my life, and the second time was that night.

After that bottle was opened, I didn't remember much after that. I only remembered David handing me a glass that was somehow refilled again and again without request. There was a record playing that went ignored. I also remember talking and laughing with Jeanine in a drunken state, if I was asked if I kissed her, I cannot deny nor admit I did.

I woke to a muffled yelling. I felt as someone was pounding at my head. I was sprawled out on one of the couches. Jeanine was on my shoulder passed out as well. I rubbed my eyes and tried to shift out from under Jeanine without disturbing her. Irene was lying in the black armchair, her feet out in front of her. Charles also asleep was face down on the piano keys, his spectacles missing. Suddenly the door to the bedroom flung open, revealing the source of the yelling and at the same time waking everyone from their drunken slumber. 

David looked absolutely livid while Mary stood in front of him with her hands clenched at her sides. 

“John, John, John!” He fumed “That’s all you ever talk about Mary, John!”

“You be quiet!” She screamed.

“John, John! I’ll say it whenever I want…!” He was cut off by a short snapping sound. Mary had slapped David across the face. Before she could say anything else she was interrupted by the gasps and shouts of the others. There were towels grabbed and ice shoved at David’s face. Through all the chaos and discombobulation, I somehow managed to slip out of the apartment and into the hallway. My hands were shaking and my breathing was at a rapid pace as I walked towards the elevator. I never wanted to step foot in that place ever again, and I never did.


End file.
